


you crown your sorrows with glory

by LearaBribage



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars - The Force Awakens, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Enemies With Benefits, F/M, angsty af, anyway i keep crying about this pair so i'm gonna drag y'all with me, balance of the force, blast from the angst, emo!Kylo ftw, if tragic is like your thing lol, ok the pablo neruda influence is all over this thang, so am I, the force is frustrated with these two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 11:35:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12556532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LearaBribage/pseuds/LearaBribage
Summary: But they do not still, carried away by the continuous waves of pleasure. Oh, how the Force thrummed, waiting for the narrative to shift and shake the earth.





	you crown your sorrows with glory

Kylo Ren was once again reminded. He must not fall in love with the death of stars. They took away any remaining semblance of who he was in that moment, hopeless, pointless streaks that they were, swimming across the unknown infinities of the universe. They reduced him into the residues of burnt souls, weakened by desire as he stared abysmally from far away. And he wondered, heart afire, if he could take the ashes from her hands, and with his tears, weave another thread of life with her.

With none of this pining for the fond curl on her lips as she kissed the cheeks of other men unworthy of what she was and could be (none of them were, including him). With none of this coveting for the warmth of her laughter weaving his soul to the pull of the light, wretched being that he was (and she would retort unfailingly, that you make right whatever you can make right). With none of these trembling words that made him utterly hesitant at the traces of her sun-graced skin as she touched him, albeit hesitantly at first (but she did, and oh, how he trembled).

"You're a monster," the gentleness in the lilt of her voice shaming him, its passion tearing at his chest. His lids lowered, he turned away, even as his hands remained by the softness of her naked lower back.

His stubborn pride did not want to lose to this woman, universe be that she was in his arms.

"Don't be afraid," nonetheless, he betrayed the abyss that he preferred, trying to keep her warmth from fading away.

But it appeared that she was, as always, the stronger one, and the moonlight drifted across the viridescence in her irises. She lifted his chin, and pressed soft kisses by the side of his jaw, murmuring his name - the assurance unspoken and tinged with promises.

He faced her, lips on hers as he waved a hand to part the tresses that always managed to captivate his eyes and draw his fingers in. Yet the fall of her tears upon his cheeks opened his eyes.

"I feel it," her heart despaired, clutching his hand. "I feel it tearing away, this meagre thread that unites us. That can make me fall to the tantalising call of the darkness."

"Rey." He caressed her cheeks, not stopping the tracks of her tears. "I feel it too."

Her lids fell, and she took a deep breath. History died from the curve of her lips. "We will have to kill each other."

"I know, I know," the ache in his heart too great to deny, desperation colouring his voice. "But we don't need to be too quick to unite with the Force."

"It is inevitable, Knight of Ren," _ah_ , the formality she used in an attempt to sever the thread that bound that them together.

_We're so good at denying everything_ , this, he spoke in the folds of her mind. Yet the night just carried on. A heartbeat passed, and nothing.

He gripped her waist, and beckoned the parting of her legs.

_As you wish_ , he wanted to say, but he didn't, yet she knew it anyway, her intrepid visage enough to silence him and begin the song of forgetting.

He threaded kisses upon the slope of her neck until he reached the fullness of her breasts, his teeth lightly grazing its tips. The way she sighed his name made him want to cry, but he didn't. He couldn't. He mustn't.

She guided his fingers as they slid in her folds, so he curled it, and her back arched against the bed they laid on. The way her mouth fell becomingly as she moaned took his breath away. He went further down her graceful skin, and soon his tongue lapped across her wet heat, the intimacy that was her making it hard to think, to remember, to stop.

But he carried on, and in the roughness of her cries, she begged him to take her away. He knew how to listen to her heartbeat, and so he followed. He parted her legs further, and gasped as they joined together.

"Rey," he gasped as they thrusted again and again. In spite of the darkness, she eyed him. The slickness of her folds was too much, and Kylo almost released when she took his face and made him focus on nothing else but her eyes - almost as if she didn't want to pretend anymore.

And the unspoken thrived in their heartbeats: _I love you._

But they do not still, carried away by the continuous waves of pleasure. Oh, how the Force thrummed, waiting for the narrative to shift and shake the earth.

How long must it take for two souls to be exalted into the celestial skies?

And if it was the last, he didn't want to keep learning how her body answered to him, how the universe in her eyes shook him, how he could not even try to deny her.

But that was how this ends, of course. The stars always die. That has always been the constant truth. And the Force moves where it wants into the long, long night.

The rage he felt thrumming in his veins was never enough, and so she slips, slips away from his arms in spite of the tears of the stars. And he remembered why he hated - _must hate, there is a difference, do not deny it_ \- getting lost in the dusk-woven silken threads of her hair. But the resentment did not stay, no matter how dark his heart and thoughts wanted it to be.

_Please don't take what remains of me with you_ , his dark eyes pleaded, but she does, she does, and it doesn't even matter that she does.

Forlornly, he watched her back, draped in her grey habit, her boots paddling softly across the field as she got to the Millenium Falcon and readied to leave Ahch-To.

He felt wretched once more, knowing how it would have always come to this - them killing each other to finally restore the balance in the Force. Perhaps, that was why there was always that slight hesitation in all their interactions. The fear, the uncertainty of what they were to become to each other, the pressure insane.

_Is there no other way?_ He screamed, the stars falling in the horizon, and she, once again, is too far to reach.

**Author's Note:**

> About "killing each other", well, it doesn't always have to be literal killing. Because sometimes, the act of love-making is a form of killing. This is how I interpreted the balancing of the Force, in case it wasn't clear. I hope it was. Ugh. I suck at writing.
> 
> Certain lines that were referenced here:
> 
> 1\. "You crown your sorrows with glory." - Elektra by Sophocles (Greek Tragedy)
> 
> 2\. "We're so good at denying everything." - Happy by Kat Frankie (It's such a feels song)
> 
> 3\. "Song of Forgetting" - From the Next to Normal Musical


End file.
